In the ever-expanding landscape of entertainment, where algorithms often dictate what captures our attention, a recent feature from The Verge offers a refreshing human touch. Titled 'What we’re listening to, watching, and reading right now,' the article, published on theverge.com, compiles recommendations from the site's staff, highlighting a mix of new releases, overlooked classics, and genre-bending works that span music, film, literature, and more. As the holiday season approaches and cultural consumption shifts toward cozy introspection, these picks emphasize discovery beyond mainstream charts, urging readers to 'skip the algorithm and get a recommendation from actual humans.'
The feature opens with an endorsement of experimental cello pop from Guatemalan artist Mabe Fratti, whose 2024 album Sentir Que No Sabes has captivated one contributor. 'The opening notes of “Kravitz”, which kicks off Mabe Fratti’s 2024 record Sentir Que No Sabes, are lodged in my brain permanently,' the writer notes, describing the track's buzzing cello sounds plucked like an upright bass, paired with simple drums and paranoid Spanish lyrics about surveillance. The album marks Fratti's evolution toward pop structures while retaining avant-garde edges, with arrangements that bloom into big piano chords and atonal horn blasts, evoking an industrial jazz vibe reminiscent of Nine Inch Nails' 'Closer.'
Shifting to ambient pioneers, the piece spotlights Laurie Spiegel's 1980 album The Expanding Universe, hailed as a 'masterpiece of early ambient music.' Prepared in anticipation of an interview with Spiegel, the reviewer revisited the record, which blends synth experimentalism, algorithmic composition, and proto-ambient sounds. Tracks like 'Patchwork' and 'A Folk Study' feature bouncy arpeggios akin to The Who's 'Baba O'Riley,' while 'Old Wave' and 'East River Dawn' summon the ethereal tones of M83 or Boards of Canada. 'It’s a marvel that sounds both nostalgic and cutting-edge at the same time,' the contributor writes, noting its timeless palette that avoids the dated FM bells of Spiegel's later work, Unseen Worlds.
For film enthusiasts, the recommendations veer into cult territory with Possession, a 1981 surreal horror directed by Andrzej Żuławski, available on platforms like Shudder, Criterion Channel, Metrograph, Kanopy, and Hoopla. The staffer advises viewers to approach it blind, warning it's 'not for the squeamish' and spoiling little beyond its intense psychological descent. This Polish-French production, starring Isabelle Adjani and Sam Neill, explores marital breakdown through grotesque body horror and existential dread, earning its status as a midnight movie staple since its Cannes premiere.
Music takes center stage again with Mandy, Indiana's 2026 album URGH, described as the early favorite for the year's best release. Building on their 2023 debut I’ve Seen a Way, the Manchester-based noise-rock outfit amps up frontwoman Valentine Caulfield's uncompromising delivery, with French lyrics dripping contempt. On the track 'Magazine,' she seethes in a way that feels like 'spitting in your face,' according to the reviewer, who admits the record has dominated their listening habits to the exclusion of older media.
Evoking wintry atmospheres, M83's 2003 sophomore album Dead Cities, Red Seas & Lost Ghosts is recommended as the ideal blizzard soundtrack, inspired by a recent New York City snowstorm. Before frontman Anthony Gonzalez pivoted to vocal-driven pop, the French duo crafted instrumental post-rock grandeur influenced by Mogwai and Godspeed You! Black Emperor. Drawing from drum machines, analog synths, and compressed guitars, the album creates repetitive, bombastic soundscapes that transform quiet, snow-blanketed streets into immersive sonic experiences.
In hip-hop's darker corners, Billy Woods' Golliwog emerges as a 'horrorcore masterpiece for the A24 crowd,' diverging from shock tactics of groups like Geto Boys or Insane Clown Posse. Known for solo efforts like Hiding Places and Maps, plus collaborations as Armand Hammer with Elucid, Woods delivers his bleakest work yet. The album's subtlety aligns more with atmospheric indie horror than slasher excess, cementing Woods' reputation for consistently high-caliber output in underground rap circles.
Literary suggestions include Victor LaValle's 2016 novella The Ballad of Black Tom, a subversive take on H.P. Lovecraft's mythos. Addressing Lovecraft's well-documented racism—criticized for poor dialogue, flat characters, and xenophobic undertones—LaValle's Harlem-set story reimagines cosmic horror through a Black protagonist in 1920s New York. It preserves Lovecraft's atmospheric strengths while critiquing his flaws, offering a concise 150-page narrative that flips the script on eldritch indifference.
Holiday music gets a twist with deep cuts to refresh playlists weary of Mariah Carey and Wham!. Among 10 suggestions, Tom Waits' 'Christmas Card from a Hooker in Minneapolis' from his 1978 album Blue Valentine stands out as the ultimate downer. The song's narrative reveal—a hooker's bleak holiday letter—guaranteed to 'bring the party down,' evoking classics like Dolly Parton's 'Hard Candy Christmas' and The Pogues' 'Fairytale of New York' in its tradition of melancholic yuletide tunes.
Sudan Archives, the violin-wielding R&B innovator, earns praise for her 2024 album The BPM, a 'violin opus for the club.' Since her 2018 EP Sink and track 'Nont for Sale,' the Los Angeles artist has evolved her sound across Athena (2019), with its organic experimental pop, and Natural Brown Prom Queen (2022), incorporating sound collages and electronics. The BPM pushes further into tech-infused territory while retaining identifiable violin passages, blending club rhythms with ambient introspection.
On the cinematic front, Netflix's 2020 horror His House, directed by Remi Weekes, is touted as a modern classic tackling trauma, xenophobia, and guilt. Starring Sope Dirisu and Wunmi Mosaku as South Sudanese refugees Bol and Rial navigating life in England, the film transcends the 'real monster is trauma' trope seen in Hereditary and The Babadook. Mosaku's nuanced performance, in particular, is credited with elevating the genre entry, making a case for her superstardom amid the refugee crisis's real-world parallels.
Nonfiction reading turns to Manoush Zomorodi's 2017 book Bored and Brilliant: How Spacing Out Can Unlock Your Most Productive and Creative Self, stemming from her WNYC podcast Note to Self series on digital detoxes in 2015. Now host of NPR's TED Radio Hour, Zomorodi argues that mind-wandering—often dismissed as distraction—is vital in our hyperconnected era. Backed by scientific studies, expert insights, and listener anecdotes, the book champions boredom as a pathway to creativity, drawing from the author's own experiences with zoning out on Amtrak or at work.
Noise pop finds a champion in Black Dresses' Forever in Your Heart, the Canadian duo of Ada Rook and Devi McCallion mastering 'beautifully searing' chaos. Tracks like opener 'PEACESIGN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!' erupt with glitchy percussion, pummeling guitars, and death-metal screams, settling into shoegaze grooves. McCallion's query, 'Can we make something beautiful with no hope?' encapsulates the album's abrasive yet catchy ethos, weaving electronics and off-key vocals into an irresistible tapestry.
Archival sounds resurface with the compilation La Ola Interior (Spanish Ambient & Acid Exoticism 1983-1990), sounding 'shockingly contemporary' despite its '80s origins. Curated from Spain's DIY scene, it spans despondent drones, analog synth excursions, field recordings, and rhythmic tracks, diverging from the New Age drift in U.S. and Japanese ambient. United by experimental demand, the collection revives overlooked Iberian electronic history for modern listeners.
Found-footage horror aficionados are directed to 2008's Australian gem Lake Mungo, a sub-90-minute mockumentary blending creepiness with emotional depth. Outshining forgettable entries like Megan Is Missing, it rivals The Blair Witch Project and REC through understated realism—convincing enough to pass as a real haunting documentary. Its pitch-perfect performances and restraint avoid the bombast of peers like the BBC's Ghostwatch, focusing on family grief and subtle supernatural chills.
Closing on heavier tones, Wednesday's 2022 album I’ve Seen All I Need to See is labeled 'brutally oppressive,' qualifying as genuinely scary alongside Daughters' You Won’t Get What You Want and Swans' To Be Kind. Opening with a reading of Douglas Dunn's poem 'The Kaleidoscope' amid sparse drums and noise, it transitions into vocalist/guitarist Chip King's distant shrieks on 'A Lament.' The record's unrelenting detuned guitars and blown-out drums evoke the bleakest horror scenes, trapping listeners in cycles of grief without atmospheric respite.
Finally, literature circles back to horror with Mariana Enríquez's 2019 Argentine novel Our Share of Night, translated to English in 2023 at nearly 600 pages—an epic blending ancient gods, cults, and ritual violence. Beyond scares, it probes Argentina's political violence, familial trauma, and elite greed, using the occult as allegory. As spooky season wanes into holidays, these The Verge recommendations underscore a broader cultural push: rediscovering art that challenges, haunts, and humanizes in an algorithm-saturated world, inviting readers to share their own obsessions in comments for potential future features.